


sew your fortunes on a string

by hollow_dweller



Series: Whumptober 2020 [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Gen, Major Character Injury, Whump, deus ex peter's poorly-defined healing factor, trolley problem from hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:27:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26627473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollow_dweller/pseuds/hollow_dweller
Summary: Tony can’t speak. His prosthetic hand is clenched so tightly he can feel the metal of his palm warping. His other arm is entirely numb.“Mr. Stark,” Peter says, voice rough and strained around the grip clasped around his throat, but determined all the same. “If you don’t choose me, I’ll never forgive you.”*Prompt fill for day two of Whumptober: "Pick who dies"
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Whumptober 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1935892
Comments: 16
Kudos: 184
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	sew your fortunes on a string

**Author's Note:**

> fill for day 2 of whumptober: pick who dies. set post Endgame except for Tony is alive. also, not that it's super relevant to this fic, but if it's post-Endgame fic from me that means May survived the first Snap and spent the five year gap getting adopted by the Potts-Stark clan. 
> 
> title from Cat Power's Metal Heart

Tony’s had this nightmare before. 

The one where he undoes the Snap, gets Peter back, and goes home, only to find that Morgan has disappeared, no trace of her left anywhere. Or where Tony gets a panicked call from May, saying that something’s wrong with Peter, that he’s had an accident, that he’s been attacked. Or the panicked voice he hears is _Peter’s,_ in the lab, in his kitchen, through the comms, asking him what’s going on, why he’s letting this happen again, and by the time Tony turns around, or runs into the room, or swoops down out of the sky, Peter has dissolved back into nothingness. 

A thousand variations on the theme, a thousand attempts by his traitorous brain to convince him that it was too greedy, too selfish, too arrogant of him to ask the universe to let him keep them both. After all- men like him don’t get happily ever afters with their wife and two kids and alpaca. 

They just get this. 

A madman, some _fucking_ ghost from his past who thinks that Tony ruined his life, fired him over nothing, backed out of a business deal- Tony doesn’t even know because he can barely hear the words the guy is spouting off through the rushing of blood in his ears. 

Tony, hundreds of miles away in DC for meetings, watching the events unfold from SHIELD headquarters, alongside the tens of millions of Americans currently watching their conversation- one of the first demands the guy had had, broadcast both sides of the video negotiation so everyone could _see_ who Tony really was, or else, and Tony had complied, of course he had. He hadn’t even hesitated. 

The Avengers, helpless, Rhodey and Sam circling in the sky, Steve and Nat in the quinjet, stuck outside a mile-wide perimeter set up by this guy’s goddamn monitor drones, held back by the threat that if they move in, the guy will let go. 

Morgan, face red and wet with snot and tears, sobbing so uncontrollably it looks like she can barely breathe, beyond the point where she can even scream, dangling hundreds of feet in the air above New York City, the only thing between her and that impossible drop the gauntlet of this guy’s fucking knock-off Iron Man suit wrapped around the back of her neck. 

Peter, dangling from the guy’s other hand, eyes blazing with rage but body limp, docile in the man’s hold, unwilling to fight and potentially risk Morgan being dropped. He’s not wearing his web-shooters- he’s not even wearing _shoes_. They’d been at Peter’s apartment when the guy broke in and snatched them, Peter watching Morgan for the day while May and Happy ran errands and Pepper and Tony worked. 

“We can figure this out,” Tony says, his voice alien to his own ears. Too faint, too thready. Desperate. “Just bring them back to the ground. Your business is with me; they don’t need to be involved.” 

The guy’s not wearing a helmet, so Tony can see his mouth stretch into an amused smirk. “I’ve already stated my terms, _Tony_. You tell me which one to drop, or I drop both. Then I’ll bring the other one down to the rooftop.” He tilts his head toward the nearest building, too far away for Peter to jump to without his web-shooters, Tony can tell. 

Besides, the thought wouldn’t even occur to him. He’d never leave Morgan behind like that. 

At those words, Morgan lets out another sob, a high-pitched, wailing thing that’s closer to a scream. 

Tony can’t speak. His prosthetic hand is clenched so tightly he can feel the metal of his palm warping. His other arm is entirely numb. 

“Mr. Stark,” Peter says, voice rough and strained around the grip clasped around his throat, but determined all the same. “If you don’t choose me, I’ll never forgive you.” 

“Pete, I’m not going to-” Tony starts, wretchedly. He can’t, he _can’t_. 

“You _have_ to,” Peter snaps. “Please, Tony.” 

“No more dithering, _Tony_.” God if he doesn’t want to punch this asshole's mouth until it can’t ever say his name like that again, with that hideous faux-sympathetic sneer. “Make a choice in the next five seconds, or I do. Five.” 

“Tony!” Peter yells. 

“Four.” 

“Daddy!” Morgan cries. 

“Three.” 

“Please!” 

“Two.”

God no. Please. Please. 

“O-”

“Peter.” Tony gasps, the word bloody and broken, like shattered glass. “I choose Peter.” 

The man smiles. Then he lets go. 

Tony’s knees collapse beneath him, bringing him painfully to the ground, ears ringing with the sound of Morgan’s screaming.

* * *

Tony doesn’t remember the plane ride home. 

It’s quick- of course it is, the quinjet can get him from DC to New York in less than half an hour- and it feels like he goes from kneeling in SHIELD headquarters to striding towards Stark Tower’s medbay in an instant. 

Somewhere in there he’s been briefed, though he can’t really remember when or by whom. He knows that Bucky had snuck past the perimeter of drones on foot, waiting on the nearest rooftop, taking the guy down as soon as he’d landed and let Morgan go. He knows that Natasha had whisked Morgan away immediately, bringing her to Pepper, while Steve oversaw the arrest. 

He knows that Rhodey and Sam had both flown straight for Peter’s falling body, pushing their suits to their absolute limits. 

He knows they hadn’t made it in time. 

When he gets to the surgical wing, he sees that everyone has congregated there- the Avengers, still in their combat gear, Pepper, sitting in a chair with Morgan curled up in her lap, fast asleep. Happy, hovering around them, hand in hand with-

“ _May_.” Tony rasps out, stumbling to a stop when he sees her. 

Everyone turns to look, leaping to their feet- with the exception of Pepper and the still-sleeping Morgan- startled by his sudden appearance. Rhodey takes a reflexive step forward, but May is faster, shooting to her feet and striding across the room, eyes red rimmed, cheeks stained with tear tracks. She marches right up to him- 

-and flings her arms around his neck. 

He grunts a little at the impact, but brings his own arms up, burying his face in her shoulder and crushing her to his chest. 

“I’m so-” he starts, voice cracking on the words, like bones on pavement. 

“Shut up,” May interrupts. “Our kid is going to be just goddamn fine, so you shut your mouth, Anthony Stark.” 

He snorts, despite himself, and pulls away enough so he can press a kiss to her forehead. 

They part, after several long moments, and then it’s time to greet the others- more hugs, for Rhodey and Happy and Nat, handshakes for Sam and Bucky and Steve. 

Bruce is in the operating room, they tell him, assisting the surgeons navigate Peter’s enhanced anatomy. 

He settles into the chair next to Pepper, leaning over to press a kiss to her cheek. She turns her head to turn it into a real one, then hands Morgan over, careful so as not to wake her, letting him hold her small, sleeping form to his chest. He rests his head on hers, breathing in her familiar scent. 

Listens to her deep, slow breaths, feels the beating of her heart beneath his hand on her back. 

May takes the seat next to him, and together they settle in to wait.

* * *

It takes Peter three days to wake up. 

They take the waiting in shifts, Pepper and Tony trading off on Morgan-care duties and company-care duties alike, though Pepper takes on the brunt of it, to Tony’s vague guilt. Happy assigns himself to May-wrangling, holding her hand at Peter’s bedside the few times when she’s there but Tony isn’t, periodically nagging her into going to grab a bite to eat, or a shower, or some sleep in a real bed. 

When the notice that Peter is awake finally, _finally_ , comes through, Tony’s in the lab, elbow deep in the process of rewiring Rhodey’s braces. He forces himself to complete the task, despite Rhodey’s insistence that it can wait- as much as he wants to run to Peter’s side, he’s not going to leave Rhodey immobile to do so- and gets it done in record time. Then Rhodey pushes him into a shower, saying that the stink of sweat and grease on him will just knock Peter out again, and promises he’ll let the kid know Tony is on his way. 

The result of it all is that others have already been and gone by the time he finally makes it to Peter’s room. He meets May and Pepper in the hallway outside the room- both suspiciously red-eyed, but smiling- and they tell him that Morgan is in there with Peter, they’re going to grab some lunch for everyone, and Tony should head right in. 

He does, not wanting to waste another minute. 

Peter looks… awful. 

It’s no surprise, exactly, that he would. The fall had shattered most of the major bones in his body, causing massive internal hemorrhaging, organ failure- the whole nine. He'd only survived through a combination of the knowledge and skill of Bruce and Dr. Cho, his insane healing factor, and sheer dumb luck. 

But still. 

The healing factor has been working overtime on fixing all the internal damage, meaning that all the surface level injuries still remain. Peter’s eyes are completely bloodshot, his nose crooked in a way that suggests his bone-readjusting power hasn’t gotten to work on the soft cartilage bits of his body yet, every visible inch of skin covered in lurid bruising. 

Despite that, he’s let Morgan up on the bed beside him, arm wrapped gingerly around her shoulders, free hand- the fingers on which are still taped- carding gently through her hair as she sleeps, head resting on his shoulder. 

It’s clear from the tear tracks on her face that she’d been crying, before falling asleep. 

Tony makes a noise in the back of his throat, concern and relief all rolled up in one, and Peter lifts his head to look at him. 

He steps further into the room, coming up on the opposite side of the bed from Morgan, and takes a seat on the edge of the mattress, settling one hand lightly on Peter’s knee. 

“Hey Pete,” he says, voice a little watery. 

Peter smiles. “Hey, Tony.” 

Tony opens his mouth, but finds when he does that he has no idea what to say. Peter’s eyes flick back down to Morgan. Then he raises them to meet Tony’s squarely. 

“Thank you,” he says. 

Tony sputters. “Wh- for _what?_ ” 

“For listening to me. For looking after Morgan.” Peter shrugs his one shoulder, slightly, then winces. “I meant what I said.”

Tony’s hand tightens reflexively on his knee. “Kid, I-” 

“Seriously.” Peter has a familiar look of stubbornness on his face, the one that says _I’m going after the arms dealers anyway_ and _sign me up for the spaceship ride to certain death_. 

Tony hates that look. He also recognizes that its appearance pretty much means he’s already lost whatever argument they’re about to have. 

“I had the best chance of surviving that fall, and we both knew it. There weren’t any other options available that wouldn’t have risked Morgan more. It was the right choice.” 

Tony shakes his head. “That’s not how it works.”

Peter scowls. “It is, and I’m the one in the hospital, so I’m pretty sure that means you don’t get to argue with me about it.” 

Tony stares. Peter raises both his brows, lips thinning defiantly. 

Tony considers, then discards, the idea of trying to press the point, to apologize. He’s pretty sure that will just end with him getting told to shut up again. 

He sighs. “That’s also not how this works, for the record, but I’m not going to fight with an injured kid.” 

Peter rolls his eyes, but smiles. Tony, unable to do anything else in the face of that familiar grin, smiles back.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks as always for reading. please feel free to drop me a note if you want to tell me what you think. i'd love to hear from you!
> 
> hang out with me on [tumblr](https://hollow-dweller.tumblr.com/), if you're so inclined.
> 
> you can subscribe to the series if you're interested in more whump from me! it will be mostly Spider-Man/Iron Dad and Pilgrimage (2017) prompt fills


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